Heartless
by skaterhottie639
Summary: Who knew mourning a dead mother would be the least of my problems? It's all Jace's fault, anyway. He can't go to a single place without up heaving it completely. And so, when his soul destination is my mom's funeral, the worst is to be expected. R&R? :D


Although the sun was shining, it did nothing to diminish the dreary atmosphere that the funeral set. It was like the sun was mocking me with false merriment and empty promises that everything was going to be all right. How could anything ever be right again when my mother was lying in a casket lifeless and unresponsive to my tears?

This is the first time in all my 17 years that I've cried and she wasn't there to comfort me. That depressing realization only makes my tears flow harder.

The funeral hadn't even started and already I was blubbering like a baby. I forced myself to get my act together and fast. I had to keep a strong front for Max's sake. He wasn't the bravest of 10 year olds so it was up to me to lend him all the strength I can manage.

He and dad were being held up at the house by his stubbornness. He's refusing to come and only I truly understood why. Back at home he could just pretend mom was in the kitchen baking fresh brownies or out on an errand but here the starkness of it all was too real to stay ignorant of.

No one knows how she died. It was as much a mystery to the witnesses as the pathologist that performed the autopsy on her. The night before she had complained about being bitten and then the next morning she just dropped dead with no warning at all. It was pretty traumatizing for her coworkers that were in the same room as her but not nearly as traumatizing as her kids and husband getting that phone call.

More people arrived in clothes that were better suited for a runway, not my mother's funeral. It was as if they were doing her a favor by dressing in their gloomiest best. Granted it was better than showing up in grass stained jeans but it wouldn't have hurt the girls to tone it down just a bit. I mean some of them were even wearing those enormous gothic hats with the feathers for Christ's sake! Every one of them gave me their condolences before taking a seat. Their feign concern was overwhelming as much as angering. 'If they didn't care, then why did they come?' I thought irritably. I'm sure they had much better things to do like a golfing tournament or a desperately needed waxing appointment.

We didn't go through with the traditional funeral. So there was none of that customary carrying of the coffin. It was already hanging above her grave, dead prisoner and all. It was much easier and painless to do it this way. No use in loitering any longer than needed. The only reason I was even here was to say my goodbye and find closure, as I'm sure is what most people came here to do as well.

Finally I spotted my brother and dad descending a hill a distance away. At first I couldn't make out their companion but when I could a mix of feelings befuddled my mind. The longing and distress in my heart battled the anger and abandonment in my head; an ongoing internal conflict of mine ever since the infamous Jace Monroe left my life to pursue the better opportunities in his.

We had been best friends ever since I moved into the house next to his in the 2nd grade and we were inseparable. Everything we did, we did together. He was there for the birth of my brother and I was right alongside him in the car holding his hand when he broke his arm in the 6th grade. I thought he was the one constant in my life that I could always count on but I was devastatingly wrong.

I couldn't conjure up any reason for why he felt the need to make an appearance here when his presence was the very last thing I ever wanted. It's so like him to show up without taking into account how others might feel towards his company. At this moment with all the anger brewing within me I can't guarantee this will be the last funeral we will be attending today.

As they got closer my look of disdain turned to one of horror. I tried to blink away what I was seeing but wasn't successful. My heart burned with injustice. When attending funerals you're supposed to dress up but this wasn't the case for Mr. Too Good For Rules. He was dressed down to a leather jacket and a white t-shirt that stretched across his chest and fit his muscular body all too well. A pair of worn out jeans hung deliciously low on his hips, but no matter how good-looking my ex-best friend might be, there was no way in hell I was going to let it cloud my judgment. He might be used to getting away with a lot of things but making a mockery of my mom's funeral was not one of them.

I walked as calmly as I could manage over to them; which wasn't much of a contraction in my state of anger. Before he could even get out a greeting I grabbed his leather-clad arm and yanked him over to a less populated area. His ever-present cocky grin was playing across his lips at and I wanted to slap the cockiness right out of him.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a liking-it-rough kind of girl," he leered down at me.

I stared at him in shock. He never fails to surprise me and for him that's not something he'd want to go bragging. Although, I shouldn't be so alarmed at his jeering and taunts. For a guy like Jace you can't really expect anything he says to have any sentimental value, but now had to be the worst time for him to make his typical commentary. All I got to say is he would win the Bad Timing Awards hands down.

He wasn't always like this. I wasn't just the only change he made to his life. As soon as he started hanging out with the in-crowd he made some pretty drastic alterations; his wardrobe, attitude- just everything.

His once shaggy hair has now been chopped to a much shorter length. Despite the fact that his golden-brown tufts were rough-looking there was no doubt they were softer than silk. That's how they'd felt when we were on speaking terms and it'd be a shame for his hair to lose its consistency; or maybe not, since it wasn't a loss to me. In place of his usual comfy sweatshirts that I was always known to steal was that leather jacket that now was the completion to his Bad Boy image. Well that and his biker boots that at a closer inspection seemed to be absent at the moment. The only thing that hadn't changed was his smoldering raw sienna eyes. But if it were possible I wouldn't put it past him to get them genetically altered.

That's how desperate he is for change and I don't even see why… Was I not enough? I made sure I was the best a friend could be and yet I was still blindsided with a toss to the curb.

I was brought back from Deluded Memory Lane when he shifted on his feet. Remembering the perverse comment he had made my one response was to glare at him. Meeting his gaze unflinching and tightening my grip on his arm.

"What the hell are you doing? This is not one of your notorious whore parties; it's my mother's _funeral._ Commentary like that can earn you a one-way ticket out of here. No, wait. Keep talking like that, 'cause I'm just itching for a reason to kick your ass out of here," his brow furrowed but before he could even take a breath of defense I went on, "And what- was it too much of hassle to dress in something nice for the one woman that was more of a mother to you than your biological one will ever be?" I scolded him in a harsh whisper. Here he was underdressed and all while the other funeral-goers around him were playing like this was a dark-themed fashion show. The contrast would have been comical to anyone else but to me it was insulting.

Now it was his turn to look unjustified. He let out a humorless laugh and peered down at me with disbelief.

"Look who's the little chauvinist. I know it's been a few years but I hope you haven't forgotten who your next-door neighbors are. Especially that shitty mother who would never buy, let alone afford a suit for her son. I thought these dress shoes would've been consolation enough but I guess it's _too__much__of__a__hassle_for you to pay attention to details anymore," he replied back sensitively.

I immediately felt like an ass. Of course that's why he wasn't wearing his biker boots. There's no way he could afford a suit even if he scrounged money for it. The shoes were thoughtful and so unlike the new Jace that I was dumbfounded.

I was too proud to admit my wrong, though. Unless Jace did it first I wasn't apologizing for anything. So my only response was an indifferent, "Whatever."

He looked at me in frustration and I shrugged.

"People who abandon their friends aren't in any position to demand apologies."

Understanding dawned on his face.

"Look, Lucy, I-," he began but was interrupted by the minister advising everyone to take their seats.

Jace ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Can we go somewhere to talk after this?" he pleaded.

"Actually, this was more talking than I ever wanted to do with you so how about we just save face and leave it as is?" I proposed.

"What? No-," he was prevented from saying anything more as I spun on my heel and stormed away.

I didn't look back once even though I could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of my gray cashmere shirt.

I sat in the seat my father had reserved for me in the front but as luck would have it there were two people he was saving seats for: me and Jace. So now here I was wedged in between my impassive-as-a-rock brother and my person-I-would-like-to-bludgeon-with-a-rock ex-best friend.

The priest began his sermon in that sleep-inducing monotone voice of his and yet, I listened with rapt attention. The things he said were meaningful to very few and meaningless to most. No one really got to know my mom the way us four have and yes, I am even including Jace because even though our friendship had ended it didn't stop him from coming over and practically being a part of the family. We just stepped on egg shells around each other.

I could feel my brother crying wordlessly next to me and pulled him in for a much-needed hug.

I heard the shutters of cameras as reporters got their newest story and I wanted to snap at them to kiss off but I was too preoccupied with my brother to voice my suggestion.

Someone's hand gripped my knee and as I looked down I realized it was Jace's. I was just about to instruct him to do the same thing I would have the reporters but when I saw his face all the mean-spiritedness I had towards him left me in a whoosh.

Unshed tears pooled in his eyes. His love for my mom was genuine and I couldn't blame him. She was wonderful and optimistic and able to cheer you up in 5 seconds flat.

I subtly covered his large hand with my own. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit and his breathing calmed a smidgen. I was now lending both Max and Jace my strength but I didn't mind in the least. We were all at peace with each other huddled like this and I knew it wouldn't last. Just because we shared this moment doesn't mean everything between me and Jace was patched. Maybe just a stitch at most but we had a long way to go if we even did want to mend our torn friendship.

Suddenly a loud scratching noise drew each guest's attention to the coffin in which resided my mother. I broke apart from the huddle I had formed with Max and Jace and stood watchful and cautious.

A terrifying second later the casket started rocking back and forth. I didn't know what the hell was going on and I wasn't planning on sticking around to find out. Jace had the same way of thinking since he yanked me to side and grabbed my brother's hand as well. We started walking backwards slowly and warily.

My father was rooted in his seat by fear or hopefulness I did not know.

"Dad!" I whisper-yelled.

If he heard me he gave no inclination of it.

Finally the box flew off its hinges and capsized over onto the grass. My mom tumbled out along with the screams of friends and family. At least it looked like my mom but something was off about her.

The thing rose to its feet and walked with a spooky precision. She looked so fresh and polished in her pink funeral dress but the drool she was leaking ruined the illusion.

I saw her recognize who we were as she scanned the crowd but her gaze rested on my father and stayed there.

"Dad!" I yelled again, louder than before but still no response.

This time she walked the few short steps and stopped right in front of my father. Her smile looked sadistic and hungry. It was scaring the wits out of me.

My dad stared at my former mom with all the joy and brainwashed love only a guy married for 20 years could accomplish. He drew her into a hug and held on tight as if at any moment she might vanish. She returned the hug with a much more greedy fervor. She nuzzled her head into the crook of my dad's neck. At first it looked like she was kissing pulse spot but when she pulled back her head and attached to her teeth was my dad's flesh I knew that was not the case.

I gagged and choked on the vile burning in my throat. Jace tugged us a few steps further away.

My dad stumbled away with his hand pressed tightly to his neck. He gaped at the world devastated and confused before his eyes glazed over in a trance. What returned a second later was no longer the man that had helped raise me. The thing ogled the crowd with a twisted delight before him and descended on the closest prey with a famished urgency. The victim's screams were lost in the chaos that immediately ensued.

This time Jace wasn't tentative with wrenching us along with him. He pulled and that was all the encouragement I needed. We started running, pushing and shoving whoever we needed to make our pathway accessible.

As we made our getaway I tried to tune out the bloodcurdling screams as more and more people fell victim to the damned. We vaulted over and dodged tombstones like we were on a simple run for gym class, not on a chase for our lives.

The universe had a serious hang-up with me if the fact that I was being hunted by zombies right alongside my biggest adversary was any indication.

Max tripped over a headstone and yelped in surprise. His face was contorted in agony and I hastily scanned the field behind us. The zombies were a good distance away but were rapidly gaining. There weren't many humans left and the ones that were lucky to get away the first round didn't look as lucky now as the infected swiftly advanced on them.

"Can you walk on it?" I asked anxiously.

"Yeah, I think so."

But after we'd helped him up he promptly fell back down in a hiss of pain. With one glance back I knew we didn't have much time before we were torn to shreds. My heart raced in panic. When I faced forward again I spotted a mausoleum a few yards away that looked to be open still.

"Can you carry him to there?" I asked Jace, pointing in the direction of the catacomb.

He shook his head yes and then scooped up Max. Again we started running; this time our one hope of surviving this set in sight.

We got there just as someone else was closing the door inwards.

"Wait!" I wailed, "We're not bitten. Oh, please open the door." I banged on the cemented-door until my skin split open but nothing happened. The people inside had just given us a death sentence.

I faced the way we had come. Pretty soon the first wave of zombies would be upon us and our one chance of survival had literally slammed the door in our faces. I slumped against the mausoleum in defeat.

Jace looked less willing to go. He stood protectively in front us and as the first zombie came hurdling towards us I heard a whisper behind me. I turned and almost cried in relief. The door was open just enough so one person could squeeze in at a time. I ushered Max to the door and he obliged without question; limping his way over to the opening.

I tugged on Jace's jacket and discreetly nudged him to the entrance.

He shook his head and said, "You first."

I didn't want to waste time arguing so I did as he said but just when I was almost completely through the gap a zombie attacked Jace. It clamped its mouth onto his arm and I squeaked in horror. Jace shook it off with a powerful punch and scampered in the crevice with me. We were just closing the door when the thing got back up and stuck its arm out for us. Unfortunately for him it got amputated as the door swung shut. His arm fell to the ground with a profound thud and rolled until it lost momentum.

I turned around to thank my saviors and automatically recognized the cemetery's groundskeeper, Steve, and the priest who just minutes ago was out there celebrating the life my mother lived. I'm wondering if he's considering a change of profession after all this.

"Thank you," I manage to gasp out as I sucked in the air greedily and waited for the cramps from running to subside.

The groundskeeper, grim-faced and with a bloodied-shovel in hand only nodded and the priest was too busy in prayer to even acknowledge the new people occupying the mausoleum.

I instantly remembered Jace's scuffle with the undead and discreetly as I could manage I tugged him over to the side.

I tried to not think about the fact there were undead carnivorous cannibals out to eat me and I was hiding in a room full of rotted-to-the-bone corpses.

He took out a lighter from his back pocket and shone it on the place where the zombie bit. We both stared in disbelief as his leather jacket seemed to be completely unscathed of anything; even bite marks.

"Your stupid jacket saved your life," I said giddy with relief.

He let out an incredulous laugh and looked up at me with joy. Joy that he'd been granted another shot at life.

The joy was short lived however when ravenous thumping sounded all around the mausoleum. Max scurried as fast as he could with his gimp over to my side and I hugged him reassuringly. The pounding only seemed to grow louder as more zombies joined in on the riot.

It was then that I fully understood the predicament I was in. My father and mother were now both gone in the sense that their spiritual selves were not a part of this world anymore. Max and I were officially orphans. It was like a nightmare forced upon reality at gunpoint and what was worse was that I was spending what might possibly be the last moments of my life with the person I least wanted to share it with.

"Great. I must have been an axe murderer in a past life if I deserve to spend my final moment right alongside the biggest asshole in all of America," I complained sullenly.

Said asshole looked at me incredulously and started laughing in a way that told you he didn't find this funny in the least.

"I can't believe you're still on that. There are zombies trying to break in and all you can think to do is hold on to your stupid grudge." His voice softened unexpectedly, "Can't you just let it go? If I'm gonna die right now I'd rather go with knowing we were on good terms." His eyes pleaded with me but still I shook my head tenaciously.

"Why should I? If you didn't give a damn about me for the past 2 years then why should I believe in this sudden change of heart now?" I asked with a stubborn jut to my chin.

"Lucy, are you freaking kidding me? I never stopped caring. You were my best friend and I cared for you a lot more than one should and I knew it was wishful thinking to hope you'd feel the same way. I couldn't bear the thought of you rejecting me but I also couldn't stand to be near you and not be able to touch you. Letting you go seemed to be the safest way to stay sane," his face took on a new vulnerability I had not once seen in Jace since the change and my heart ached for him. The sound of crushing rocks interrupted the moment like a bucket of ice water.

Jace turned his fear-stricken face on me. The lighter glowed in between us.

"Look if we don't-" he stopped to swallow and I watched his Adam's apple move with the motion. He continued, "If we don't make it out alive I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dropped you like that. It's just, I was in love with you and when Monica told me that not only did you not feel the same way but that you were repulsed by the thought of dating me- well I just couldn't handle it. But it took me a long time to realize that I'd rather be your friend than not in your life at all," he professed.

My heart was racing from his confession but there wasn't something right about it.

"I never said that," I said confused.

"But Monica-," he protested.

"Is a skank who happens to be your girlfriend. You do the math," I instructed.

"Ex, actually," he conceded.

I laughed, "It's about time. Someone who has their name written all over the bathroom walls in hate graffiti isn't exactly girlfriend material. But I'm serious; I never said anything like that. If anything I would have said the complete opposite. And as far as apologies go, I think that one deserves forgiveness." I admitted.

"Seriously?" he asked and at my encouraging nod he crushed me into a hug. "I'm never gonna forgive Monica for that." Jace's gaze turned wistful as we continued to stare at each other and ignored the groaning and moaning of the undead outside. "I know this is incredibly inappropriate for me to do and I hope you can forgive me but I've just waited too damn long to get killed by zombies before I even get the chance to do it," he told me and his eyes twinkled in anticipation. My heart was in the middle of thumping out a whole drum line.

Jace swooped down and pressed his lips to mine and finally after 2 years of precariously avoiding each other the severed ties of our friendship was repaired and by far better than they were when we were just friends; otherwise my lips wouldn't be touching his. I felt the stubble on his chin as his oncoming beard rubbed abrasively against my cheek.

So now here I am making out with my used-to-be ex-best friend in a mausoleum surrounded by bones and corpses with a priest chanting out incantations while zombies tried to break in any way they could to ravage us.

Weirdest. Day. Ever.

Then the miracle of all miracles happened. The sounds of the voracious undead died down and as they did the priest quieted his invocations. Everything was eerily silent. Then, the door abruptly opened up with a quick wrench.

Behind it revealed a cop who said, "It's okay now. You can come out."

The sun that was once a travesty to the day now congratulated me on surviving the worst thing that had come to the world since Justin Bieber.

The way Jace seemed to keep his composure so effortlessly was enviable since I probably looked like the poster-child for a post-zombie apocalypse- what with my blond hair all knotty and matted to my head thanks to the homeostasis that my body had to maintain; also, not to mention that my aquatic-blue eyes were undoubtedly bloodshot from all the crying that I'd done but since this had started out as a funeral that part was understandable.

As I looked around at the aftermath I recognized my mother's and father's bodies scattered amongst many others and I was grateful that they were both peacefully at rest. Don't get me wrong. I'm pretty distraught to not have either of them around anymore but I'd rather have them in an eternal slumber than out terrorizing innocent people.

I watched as more cops rounded up the last of the zombies and ended their pathetic existences in one shot. Even groundskeeper Steve was getting in on the action with bashing in the zombies' heads with his shovel.

Wordlessly, we walked along the graves until we had finally made it through the cemetery gates. Fatigue wore me down and the last of my strength was dwindling away. Jace abruptly pulled my brother and me into a hug and in that embrace I felt the assurance of security and love that the three of us were going to need to start our new lives together.


End file.
